Cuddling time
by HaneGaNai
Summary: A set of Ura/Ichi drabbles and one-shots. May contain fluff, silliness, randomness and pervertedness. Chapter 11: In sickness and in health. Enjoy!
1. 1: Sharing

**AN**: I blame it all on too much studying and lack of sleep. My brain is currently in perv-mode and is full of Ura/Ichi-fic ideas. So be prepared for randomness, silliness, fluff and other dreadfully-sounding words. Moreover, I will take requests. I can't promise I will write each and every one. I'll see what I can do and what I am capable of writing.

**Title**: Sharing

**Rating**: PG

**Words**: 517

**Warnings**: silliness, yaoi, grammar as it was not yet betaed.

**Summary**: Sharing _is_ caring.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters.

**Betaed by FreakinMi (aka God)**

- Hey, you perverted bastard, let go. - They were walking down the street on their way back to the Shouten from a little shopping excursion. The sun was low in the sky, the clouds orange and red in the last of light it gave, a few stars already up. There was a slight breeze all the more adding to the pleasant atmosphere. But trust Urahara to spoil the moment.

- Huh? What is it Kurosaki-kun? - The shopkeeper looked at the teen with an innocent smile. At least that was what it was supposed to be - Ichigo would never fall for that.

- Stop playing dumb. I said "let go". - He tugged at their entwined hands. Didn't he know people could see them?

- "Let go" of what? - Ichigo glared at him wondering if the blonde was seriously that stupid or if he had a death-wish.

- My hand, you moron. You're holding my hand.

- Oh? What do you know, I really am holding your hand. How did that happen? - The teen scowled.

- That's why I told you to let it go.

- What are you scared of? It's not like I'm doing anything bad with it. - Urahara swung their hands playfully.

- Not yet. But knowing how perverted your mind is you're sure to come up with something dirty soon enough. Let go already.

- But why?

- Because it's my hand, dammit! - Ichigo had had it at this point, blood boiling. He ripped his hand out of the blonde's grasp using more strength than needed, the shopkeeper actually loosening his hold on his hand.

- Now aren't we stingy, Kurosaki-kun. I thought that being lovers meant sharing everything with each other, especially our bodies. I'm hurt. - Ichigo ignored the hurt look Urahara sent him and continued walking in silence. He looked back when he noticed Kisuke wasn't following him. He just stood in place, his head bowed down, his face successfully hidden behind his hat.

- What is it now? - The teen asked crossing his arms.

- Are you ashamed of me? - Now that wasn't exactly what the teen expected. All anger was replaced by guilt.

- Wha...? No! Of course not. - Ichigo rushed back to where his lover stood and grasped his shoulders. - It's not that I'm asha... - The slight shaking of Urahara's body made him stop his explanation. He leaned down to cast a glance at the blonde's still hidden face only to learn that, indeed, the man was trying his best to suppress laughter. He pushed him away, Urahara tripping and falling down on his ass, though that didn't stop him from sniggering.

- Ow... - He wheezed doing his best to calm down a little. - That hurt. - He held out his hands towards the scowling teen. - Won't you help me? The ground is cold.

- You can stay there for all I care. - He answered and turned around ready to go back to the shop. - But if you don't hurry up there won't be any "body-sharing" tonight. - He needn't repeat himself. Before he knew it he was picked up end shunpoed to the Shouten. Urahara would never miss an occasion to share.


	2. 2: Candy Shop

Written for the **UraIchi Community Contest**.

Betaed by **FreakinMi.**

**Title: **Candy Shop

**Rating: **PG

**Words: **987

**Warnings: **yaoi... and that's all I think.

**Summary: **Every time he kissed the blonde he felt like a child in a candy shop.

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Bleach or any of the characters.

**Sweet Candy Shop**

It was one of those rare lazy days undisturbed by Hollow attacks, random midget-fangirl stalkers or annoying albino freaks trying to take over his body to shag a particular fruit-head. Apart from the silent chatter of the TV, the Shouten was unusually quiet. All because Tessai and the kids went to a popular onsen, the trip sponsored by Urahara, as a result of the shopkeeper's soft touch for Ururu's puppy dog eyes. A little downward quirk of her lips was all she had to do to make the blonde feel all guilty and practically push them out of the shop. The girl knew how to play her cards right. And that might be just a little bit terrifying considering her superhuman strength.

All in all however, getting rid of all the other inhabitants of Urahara Shouten meant that Ichigo and the blonde had the whole place for themselves. They could finally spend some time together without anyone's interruptions. They were, of course, asked to come with the trio, but Urahara's possessiveness kicked in and he refused to let anybody have even a glimpse of his young lover's beautiful body (the teen loosing pieces of clothing in battle aggravated him deeply as well, but he couldn't do much about it since Ichigo refused to wear anything made by the blonde's hands, _especially_ his anti-tearing uniform).

As it stands, the teen was sitting on the tatami mats leaning against the low table on his right, elbow propped on the table, his chin resting in his hand as he watched a movie. His other hand was currently being thoroughly examined by the blonde occupant of his lap. Urahara lay in front of Ichigo and would occassionally pull his otherwise widespread legs up to block the TV and annoy the teen. He would lick and suck the digits teasingly, trying his best to get some of his lover attention, even succeeding a few times (if you could call earning a glare or being thrown off of his Berry's lap a success). Now, however, he was being deliberately ignored in favor to a horror movie. And Urahara hated being ignored more than anything. As a punishment he pulled at the teen's hand – the one he was playing with – and bit on Ichigo's index finger. Not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to send his point across and receive a frigid glare from the Strawberry.

- What do you think you're doing? - The blonde first smiled through a mouthful of Ichigo's finger before releasing it and licking the wound he inflicted. The teen tried to pull his hand out of the shopkeeper's grasp but Urahara didn't let him.

- Drawing your attention. You know, you shouldn't ignore your lover when he's so nicely put in your lap. I even went as far as sending those three on a trip. - Ichigo arched an eyebrow. - And you didn't even thank me. - Urahara pouted at what Ichigo could only laugh. The blonde nibbled at his finger again.

- Ok, ok. _Thank you_. Now stop bothering me, will ya? I'm trying to watch a movie.

- Don't I get a "Thank you" kiss? - Kisuke tried to smile innocently but failed. Miserably. The teen rolled his eyes at his older lover's antics. But if it meant that he would finally be left in peace...

- Will it make you shut up?

- Well... - Ichigo tugged at the blonde's hair warningly. - Of course. - The Strawberry eyed his lover for a few seconds apparently debating if he really should trust the pervert, but he decided that risking wouldn't hurt much. He leaned down and planted a quick kiss on Urahara's nose sniggering at the sulking face the shopkeeper made. Ah, he was so fun to annoy.

- Hey, that wasn't a ki... - He was successfully silenced when a pair of familiar, young lips landed on his in an upside-down kiss. Kisuke let out a low purr and opened his mouth for the teen's tongue. The kiss was a bit clumsy and wet, but that didn't mean they didn't enjoy it. It was all but unsatisfying.

Ichigo explored Urahara's mouth thoroughly, loosing himself in the blonde's flavor. Urahara always tasted like sweets. Not any particular candies, cookies or any other sweet products, but a mixture of them all. It wasn't too strong and never made him feel sick. The taste was... powerful, yet always left him want more. It was intoxicating. It left him high. Every time he kissed the blonde he felt like a child in a candy shop - he wanted to taste everything and since he couldn't do so in one go he would always come back for more. He'd dive deep into the shop to rummage between the shelves and look for the most extraordinary and rare flavors. He'd go for the darkest, most distant corners where not many customers dared to wander and in peace explore the place for hours admiring different shapes, colors, sizes. And tastes. Sweet, bitter, sour, spicy, fruity, dark. Each and every one. Not once, but time and time again trying to decide which one of them is his favorite. Which one of them he likes the most. Only to find out that he loves them all. And wants more. He would always crave more. He'd always come back for more. Not that he'd ever tell Urahara.

Ichigo finished the kiss with a final nip on Urahara's bottom lip and pulled back, Kisuke trying to follow.

- Now be quiet you needy bastard. - Ichigo's harsh words were spoiled however by the wide grin on his face and his hands now entangled in the shopkeeper's hair, moving in a soothing motion. Urahara answered with a smile and closed his eyes, the fingers massaging his scalp making him feel drowsy. Soon enough Ichigo had his peace and quiet as the blonde drifted off to La-la Land with Strawberries waiting for him to devour them.


	3. 3: Touch me

**A\N: **_I'll be rambling today so you can just skip this part. What you have below, well, that's the style I'm used to. Or more like, I used to write like that before I started writing ff. I'm a creature of emotions, even though I don't usually show most of them. 's all. Now enjoy._

**Title: Touch me  
Rating: M**

**Words: 593**

**Warning: yaoi  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**Touch me**

It feels so incredibly wonderful to be yours. To be here with you, already at the stage where everything else doesn't matter. When I stopped trying to be obstinate and push you away in my usual prudish fashion. I don't care anymore. The only thing I want is to lose myself in this. In the incredible feeling of being devoured by you. By your eyes, lips, hands. Consumed by your breath, gaze, touch, scent. For once I want to show you how deep you got under my skin. How you undo me every time the distance between us is lost, clothes ripped apart in the rush to feel bare skin against bare skin. I want to lead you. Let you see how your caresses and actions affect me. Show you exactly how much I love these moments when there's only us, all the others lost in the haze. So stop for a moment. One moment only and then I'll let you have me. In a way only you are allowed to.

Let's start with your eyes. Engulf me in your gaze. Slowly. From toes stretched far in the bed-sheets till orange hair scattered in affection. See me panting, blushing under the weight of your gaze. Seeing you so enthralled with me, your eyes dark with lust, hazed with love, making me even harder. Moaning your name out loud. One single time. Let every inch of me experience the intensity, strength, tenderness. Make me lose myself in your gray eyes. Even deeper. Even firmer. Stronger. Again and again falling into you. Don't ever let me get away.

Come closer. A bit closer. I want to swim in your scent. To breathe you in with my whole body. To smell of you. To become saturated with you. Emanate with you. Let everybody know. Let them see in me that I belong to you. To you and you alone. And you too – swim in me. Let my scent become one with yours. Just as we become one.

Closer. I want to feel your breath against my skin. To relish in it. To have it warm up against my naked body. Slowly. Don't rush yourself. We have the whole night to ourselves. We have us to ourselves. Let us last in abeyance. From the world. In the small space of your room. Alone. Alone but not lonely, as we share our body heat. Our warmth.

Closer. Keep your hands to yourself. I know how much they want to roam, but it's not their turn yet. Your lips. It's them I want now. Let them possess me now. Don't stop. Everybody knows I belong to you even without those marks you so like to leave in places difficult to cover with clothes. Tenderly. Subtly. As if I was about to break into thousands of little pieces. Make me feel divine. Sublime. Fill me with warmth, with love, with you. Relish in me.

And now touch me. Make me melt in your arms. Ready to fulfill your every wish.. We belong to each other. Your hands. My body. Your body. My hands. So perfectly made to fit each other. To complete each other. So close, so deep inside me and yet I crave more, I want to have you deeper within me. I want us to merge into one. So we'd never have to part.

Touch me, as if it was the first time. The last time. As if there's no tomorrow.

You are everything I need. And so much more.

Touch me. We are one.


	4. 4: Wet dream

**Betaed by my beloved seme – King Frea/FreakinMi/God/Master**

**Title**: Wet dream

**Rating**: M

**Words**: 2019

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters.

**A/N:** This thingy here was inspired by a dream I had some time ago. Alas not with Ichi and Kisuke as the main chars *sad*. My inner pervert grows in strength, but I'm not complaining.

I'm thinking of this as of a collab with God, since she was a great help and has her part in writing this too ^^.

**Wet dream**

The water streaming down on the tanned body was hot, leaving the patches of skin it fell on red. He flinched when the first few drops touched his body, but after a short while he got accustomed to the high temperature. He was standing in the shower facing the stream of water pouring down on him; his hands placed on the wall as he leaned in and enjoyed the uplifting feeling filling him as all the day's stress was washed away. Hot water always calmed him down, the slight pain it brought making him feel alive – it brought him back to reality from the dream his life seemed like most of the time. Like an illusion. He watched from the corner of his eye as all of the negative emotions streamed down his taut body, running down his back in little streams, washing over the slowly unclenching muscles, joining together in a river at his loin continuing down that well-shaped ass that brought both problems and benefits, gliding further over his long legs. Water gently massaged his body bringing relief - all the nervousness he might have felt washed away.

Then a hand covered his in a grip that was neither firm nor too gentle, but yet possessive as a cold body moved behind him pressing itself close sending a shiver down his spine. A very cold, very male body, though he didn't mind it at all. They fit well together, spooned so tightly they could actually be one. He didn't move when the body appeared and didn't flinch when a face pressed itself in the juncture of his neck and shoulder, beard grazing his skin ever so lightly accompanied by a talented tongue and sharp teeth, the caress so delicate it drove him mad. He opened his mouth in a soundless gasp, his eyes closing slowly as he focused on the feeling of being so close to another person he could almost feel his heartbeat through their connected skin. He couldn't do anything to indicate that he wanted more – the affectionate touch a secret between the two of them.

He tuned out the surrounding world focusing entirely on the sound of the running water, increased breathing, a tongue lapping at his shoulder and the wave of scorching electricity that had formed where their bodies met, his skin tingling, burning. Their fingers were entwined so tightly now that it hurt – the pain adding all the more to the devastating pleasure, but neither of them loosened their hold. The overwhelming sensation created by skin rubbing against skin in movements impossible to see for anybody that might have been watching them. He concentrated on that feeling alone, his mind momentary blank, all thoughts lost. Reduced to nothing more than his body as his brain ceased working. He felt more alive than he had ever felt in his entire life. It was as if he woke up from a deep slumber, as if he had spent years in confinement all alone and was now experiencing how it felt - what sinful pleasure it brought – to be touched by another human being for the first time. It was so raw, so new, and so agonizingly pleasurable. He was sure the touch would leave burn marks all over him. But he didn't mind it at all, he'd welcome the scars with joy as a reminder of a feeling so powerful and sensuous he'd never find words to name it.

But soon enough the heated moment was gone. They were savagely interrupted as someone shouted – the voice distant, as if coming from very far away. The caresses, the embrace, the warmth - it was all gone, except for the small tingling the water was unable to wash away.

- That's enough. Thank you. You can get dressed now.

As the sound of many people shuffling and working reached his ears he finally managed to open his eyes. The water stopped. The body behind him disappeared completely as he struggled to keep himself in place and not follow his moves; the loss of the warm pressure against his back leaving him on the verge of pain, when an almost inaudible whisper reached him.

- I wish we could have stayed like that for eternity.

It was so silent that he'd surely miss it if his senses hadn't been on high-alert right now; trying to feel, engrave the fleeting feeling of the short moment they just shared as much as possible. He didn't turn around to look at the man, sure that by now his body would be covered by a towel at least, hiding that glorious body, that amazing set of muscles, those perfect hips under material he wanted to tear off of him so bad, so he could see that the blonde man was just as aroused as he was. He had felt him – his hardness flush against his body, lounging between his cheeks. His own throbbing desire was the other reason why he didn't turn around to face him and just waited for his manager to bring him a towel. As the soft material reached his fingers he immediately covered himself and turned around slowly, hoping so much that his heart started racing. But he wasn't there anymore, already gone to his dressing room. Only cool air and a thin trail of unlucky water droplets that had lost their grip on his celestial body was left behind.

- I knew you'd enjoy the photo shoot, Ichigo.

He heard from his side, he didn't have to look at his midget of a raven-haired manager to know that she's smirking, a fangirl gleam present in her eyes. Instead of answering her he sent her a frigid glare and headed towards his own dressing room to take care of the problem the towel barely hid.

He was glad that his dressing room was as close as it was. It saved him from humiliation – there was very little things on his way there he could hide behind and too many people who wanted to pat his shoulder (or ass in some cases) and tell him "Good job today.".

When he opened the door it wasn't much of a surprise for him to see _him_ there; lounging on the sofa, his limbs scattered haphazardly, and the towel hanging loosely over his hips – a sight that went straight to the gutter reminding Ichigo just how aroused he was. His guest's eyes were closed half-mast, roaming over the teen's body – the heated look making him shiver almost visibly. Despite the fact that all the redhead wanted at the moment was to be devoured by those gray eyes, those strong hands and sinful lips, Ichigo would die before admitting that the man had such a grave influence on him.

- What are you doing here, Urahara? - The teen scowled, but that didn't deter the blonde.

- So cold. - The man said with a smile. He rose from where he was sitting and advanced towards Ichigo slowly, like a predator haunting down his prey. - And here I came to finish what we've started on the set.

- Ch. Go back to your own cubicle. Yoruichi is sure to come looking for you if she sniffs out that you're missing. - Ichigo refused to back down and stood stubbornly in place. Even when Kisuke caught him between the door and his own body, his hands placed on either side of his head.

- I'm sure they wouldn't mind coming in on us. – Ichigo snorted in reply.

- Of course they wouldn't. - He said silently. He knew his obstinacy wouldn't last long and the decreasingly small proximity between them wasn't of any help.

- You can lock the door, my silly Strawberry, if you don't want voyeurs. - Urahara whispered in his ear licking it playfully before nibbling on the lobe, one of his hands moving down to lock the door. If Ichigo wasn't Ichigo – he refused giving in without a fight, even if it meant being further from his release - he'd grab the hand and pull it back to place it his body. With his pride in the way he could only wish for that hand to roam around on him and him alone.

- E-even locking the door wouldn't stop her, especially if she meets R-rukia on her way here. - He stuttered as the man's tongue traced down his jaw line.

- Let's give them a good show then. - Urahara tugged at Ichigo's arm and made him fall into him. He then proceeded to drag him towards the sofa where Ichigo could only guess Urahara was planning to devour his favorite Berry.

- Bite me. - Was the teen's answer, but it came out muffled and with no real heat - Ichigo admitting defeat. Urahara ripped the towel off of the redhead, his own following, pushed him on the couch and laid on top of him a silent gasp escaping his lips at their heated skin met again.

- With pleasure. You make the most delicious of sounds when I graze your skin with my teeth, nibbling on your ears, your neck and your lips. – The blonde followed his words with actions, his mouth moving from one place to another as he spoke making the teen writhe beneath him. The kiss was slow and tender at first, their lips moving slowly in a lazy dance. The blonde nibbled on Ichigo's bottom lip and was granted entrance almost instantly, his tongue diving into the hot cavern, exploring every inch trying to coax the other's muscle into action. The kiss grew harsher then, their tongues dancing wildly, greedily devouring the other's moans and gasps. They parted for breath and Urahara's velvet tongue wandered down Ichigo's body leisurely. But before the older man's mouth reached its destination the door had been pried open and the lovers were interrupted once again.

- What do we have here? – Yoruichi asked nobody in particular, a big smirk threatening to split her face in half. Ichigo briefly debated with himself if he should just ignore the two perverted women and let Kisuke continue (he was sure the older man didn't mind having an audience at all) or maybe throw them out first and then let the blonde have his way with him. Reason won however - the redhead send the managers a frigid glare and sighed slumping against the sofa.

- Told you that locking the door wouldn't stop them. – Urahara didn't answer; instead he just lay on top of his lover not really bothered that they were both naked.

- Sorry to disturb you two - the gleam in Rukia's eyes told them that she was far from being sorry. - But the photographer wants you to hurry back on the set for the next shooting. - Ichigo sighed trying to untangle himself from Urahara's embrace.

- Yeah, yeah. We'll be right there. - He glared at the voyeurs. - Some privacy, eh? Honestly. – The girls took off sniggering. – Perverts. - Their managers gone the Strawberry-christened teen continued trying to push his hound dog off of him, but failed. – Get off, idiot. We have to go.

- Do we really have to? – The blonde mumbled against his stomach.

- It's our job so stop whining already. – Urahara pouted in answer. Ichigo sighed. He didn't have it in him to scowl at his lover. - We'll finish this at home. Happy?

- Extremely. - He whispered into Ichigo's ear in a suave voice making him blush fiercely. He then stood to gather his towel from the floor, covered himself and left the room sending one last heated look towards Ichigo, who had yet to move from the sofa.

- Bastard. - The teen said, but it wasn't much of an insult. He rose from where he was left by Urahara and wrapped the towel around himself following the blonde. He pleaded whatever gods there were up there to stop his lover from coming too close to him before they reached their apartment, because working with a hard-on was way too embarrassing for him.


	5. 5: Mad Hatter

**Title**: Mad Hatter

**Words**: 1711

**Warning**: Kisuke being a perv, angry Ichigo badmouthing Urahara, um… teasing,

**Rating**: T (is for teasing)

**Summary**: One should never distract a scientis.

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach ir any of the characters.

**Beta: **King/FreakinMi

**A/N: **I had lots of fun working on this one and you can feel that. It's also very much like me – I mean the teasing part XD. I don't have anything else to say. Enjoy!

--

A hot summer day was in full blossom, the sun shining brightly on the cloudless, blue sky, birds chirping happily and a soft breeze to accompany the idyll scenery. It was a normal, peaceful day In Karakura.

BOOM.

Or not.

"Oww…" a pained moan left the lips of a particular orange haired teenager as he rubbed his head where he collided with the nearest wall, the explosion throwing him a few meters away from the lab table. Through a faint cloud of green smoke he could make out the tall figure of his lover standing up carefully and looking around for him in the remains of a laboratory. Finally, Urahara noticed him, though Ichigo didn't really like the odd look sent his way or the wicked smile gracing those lips one bit – it meant trouble. The blonde moved to where the teen lay sprawled on the floor.

"Are you alright, Kurosaki-kun?" asked the shopkeeper eying him from head to toe, grin never leaving its place.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he answered from his place on the floor. He took his time looking around taking in the destructions the explosion made, "Though I can't say the same about this place. You should've been more careful with that funny-looking mixture of yours."

Urahara produced his fan out of nowhere and Ichigo couldn't help but laugh out loud at the dumfounded look on his lover's face when he realized that he wouldn't be able to hide his wolfish grin behind the fan, as it was damaged and as soon as Urahara tried to open it only the handle was left in his hand. The expression Kisuke wore was priceless, his eyes wide and lower lip jutted out as if he was about to cry. But it didn't last long much to Ichigo's dismay – the blonde shopkeeper shrugged, threw the fan away with nonchalance and acted as if nothing happened pulling his hat down a bit to cover his eyes. "It's not my fault you distracted me."

"Like hell I did!" the teenager scowled, "All I did was stand there and watch what you're doing, so don't blame your failures on me, you mad scientist." Though, maybe he did swing his hips in that particular way that always drew Kisuke's attention and leaned on the table nibbling on his little finger as he feigned interest in whatever it was Urahara was working on this time. Those little things that would surely send Kisuke's mind into a one-track trail of thought, without anyone really being able to blame him for it. "Anyways, what were you trying to make? A bomb?"

"Well, not really. I found this new recipe for chocolate on the internet the other day and I wanted to try it out."

Ichigo's jaw dropped.

"You're joking, right? You don't really think I'll believe something as absurd as that."

"But I'm telling you the truth, Kurosaki-kun. Your disbelief hurts me."

"Yeah, right." Urahara flashed him a sweet smile and started wandering aimlessly through the destroyed laboratory. Glass shards, burned or half-burned sheets of paper, pieces of wood that had once been a chair – Kisuke took in the damages without much of a scowl, completely unfazed. Ichigo supposed that explosions were a quite common occurrence in Urahara Shouten. Though that didn't explain the secretive smiles the pervert sent him every now and then. "Is there something on my face? A third eye maybe?" asked the teenager getting a bit annoyed by the blonde's strange – well, stranger than usual – behavior.

"No, there's nothing wrong in the way you look."

The choice of words made the orange haired boy arch an eyebrow, but he didn't question his lover further. He let out a frustrated sigh instead, and ran a hand through his hair, a few stray blonde strands obscuring his vision. He supposed that sitting sprawled on the ground wouldn't help clean up the place, so he should probably stand up already and….

Wait a minute. Blonde strands?

Ichigo caught a few strands of hair, a bit too aggressively maybe as it made him wince in pain, and brought them before his eyes. His hair got longer and…

Blonde.

Blonde as in exactly the same shade of pale sunny blonde Urahara's hair was.

"Wha-?"

"Is something wrong, Kurosaki-kun." Kisuke was again standing a step away from the teenager.

Ichigo looked up at him, his eyes wide in shock and well, horror.

"Why the fuck is my hair blonde?!"

"Oh?" Urahara's face stayed unfazed.

"Don't 'oh' me you bastard. What the hell did you do to me?" He could of course check it himself, but he didn't dare to look down on his body to check the... damages.

"I didn't do a thing. There's nothing wrong with you."

"Kisuke." Ichigo shot his lover a glare, the tone of his voice threatening.

"Well… this wasn't in any way what I intended to do, but I have to say the result is… interesting." Urahara scratched the back of his neck grinning sheepishly. "It seems that the mixture somehow changed your appearance. And…"

Trust Kisuke to make a dramatic pause.

"And?" Ichigo pressed.

"And you look exactly like me."

_What the fuck?!_

"No way!"

"Yes way, I'm afraid."

"Change me back. Immediately."

"I don't know how." Ichigo just looked him in the eyes, his gaze hard and frigid. "I mean yet. I don't know yet. But I will soon."

"How soon?"

"I just need to make some tests. Take some samples." Urahara twirled his cane idly not really looking at Ichigo.

"Then hurry up. I don't wanna be stuck looking like this for the rest of my life!" There was no way in hell he'd go home looking like this!

"Don't you like how I look?" Kisuke feigned a pout.

"You know damn well that it's not what I'm talking about. Don't change the subject." He tried to stand up, but since his body was bigger now he didn't use enough strength and fell back on his ass. Rubbing the abused skin and trying to ignore Kisuke's not really suppressed chuckle he continued, "Stop laughing and start working on turning me back to normal."

"Well, if you really want me to."

"Yes, I really _want_ you to _do_ something about this. And I'd be incredibly happy if you started 'doing something' right this instant." The teenager huffed.

"So… first I'll have to do some tests and calculations." Kisuke lowered himself to a crouching position. A smile plastered on his lips though his eyes weren't laughing, eyeing the boy, calculating.

"Hurry up then." Ichigo didn't catch the change in Urahara's demeanor, before it was too late and he was lifted up and over the shopkeepers shoulder.

"What the fuck!"

"Calm down, Kurosaki-kun, or I'll drop you on the floor." Urahara carried him out of the laboratory and headed towards the back of the Shouten, to his bedroom.

"What are you doing?!" Ichigo never stopped struggling.

"A check-up." Kisuke smacked his butt playfully at what the teenager squeaked. And you must know that it was a very manly squeak. Or so he claimed.

"Check-up? What for?" They were in Urahara's room already, Ichigo facing the futon as Kisuke turned around to close the door. An ominous 'click' resounding in the room as they were locked inside.

"I need to examine you and see how exact the change is." The blonde pervert laid Ichigo on the futon carefully. "First, we need to get you undressed." And that wasn't really much of a problem since his clothes were more or less torn due to the explosion and just as much because of his body getting bigger. He took off Ichigo's shirt and pants without much protesting from the orange head, but as soon as his hands strayed towards the young man's boxers they were swatted away.

"Hey, get your hands off of there." Ichigo scowled.

"I'm just wondering if you look exactly like me."

And before the Substitute Shinigami even had a chance to react his hands were tied above his head Urahara's own busy with roaming on his chest as he straddled Ichigo's hips.

"Damnit, Urahara, stop! Let go of me you fuckin' perv!" Ichigo tried to move, throw the bastard off of him, but Kisuke didn't even budge. Not even when the orange haired teen moved his hips upwards, their groins meeting and Ichigo could feel the blonde's growing erection. "I can't believe this is turning you on!"

Urahara didn't say a thing busying himself with shedding off his own haori, his hat thrown to the side followed by his shirt.

"Now this should be interesting."

---

"So when will the effect wear off?"

They were still in bed, Urahara tracing lazy patterns on Ichigo's chest as he lay on his side beside the teenager. The boy in question was quite exhausted from the hours that Kisuke spent on examining his changed body. He had to admit that he'd never came as much and hard as he did today, all thanks to the perverted shopkeeper who knew exactly how and to what his own body reacted. He didn't even have it in him to berate the blonde. Not at the moment at least.

"I think that you'll be back to normal in a few hours."

"You think or you know?"

Urahara smiled lazily.

"I know."

"What am I supposed to do trapped in your body for another bunch of hours?"

"Well, I might have an idea," the blonde leaned in and nipped on Ichigo's earlobe. The teenager rolled his eyes at the comment, but played along.

"Oh?"

"I could teach you a thing or two about my body." Kisuke murmured in his ear, his voice suave. "Where and how to touch, what I like, what drives me crazy."

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?" Ichigo scoffed trying to play hard to get, though he'd lie if Urahara's offer didn't go straight to his groin.

"Did what?" Kisuke mumbled against his neck.

"Change me."

"And what would you do if I said I did?"

"... I suppose I can kick your ass later. But first..." Ichigo pushed Kisuke away and in a flash settled on top of Urahara straddling his hips. He leaned in until their lips were almost touching and whispered, "Teach me."


	6. 6: Dew

**Title**: Dew

**Words**: 869

**Rating**: K

**Warning**: um… not enough Urahara?

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters.

**Summary**: _The cold autumn air helped him clear his head as he concentrated on the sound of his feet hitting the ground, on keeping his breath steady._

**A/N**: I know, it resembles Gravitation in a way. But that's just the way it ended up. It was supposed to be a much brighter, lighter drabble, but oh well. Enjoy anyway!

**Beta**: FreakinMi.

--

Ichigo ran. His long, slender legs taking in long tracts of wet grass as he scurried further into the park. The sky was still covered by gray dawn clouds, bits of orange, yellow and blue peering through them as it slowly but certainly cleared up, the bright crown of the sun finally visible as it emerged into the morning.

It was fairly early; the teenager had at least three more hours before he had to get up for school. Ichigo didn't even bother going to bed that night. He wouldn't have been able to fall asleep anyway, just like the night before and like the one before that one, just like the entire week. No matter how tired he was before going to bed he'd just end up lying wide awake and think in the silence of the night. And the orange head didn't really enjoy the thinking part.

Ichigo didn't enjoy mulling things over in his head thousands of times before pursuing them. It just wasn't his way of doing thing. He was the type that rushed into stuff unprepared, and most of the time was overwhelmed, but his strong will and desire to push through always got him there. This time however, the thing bothering him couldn't be settled like that. Especially because he had to come into terms with it first. But no matter how many sleep-deprived hours he spent thinking, no solution came.

That's why he ran.

He slipped out of the house through the window and into the night and just tear along ahead, uncaring of where as long as he had a path he could run along.

The cold autumn air helped him clear his head as he concentrated on the sound of his feet hitting the ground, on keeping his breath steady. There were times when he had to pull out his Substitute Shinigami badge, but only the first two nights, the rest of the week Hollowless or the alarm going off just one time, before someone or something took care of the Hollow. It had the eldest Kurosaki wondering, but who was he to complain if that meant he had some time for himself?

Today would also go by uninterrupted if not for the slippery wet grass. A miscalculated step and Ichigo landed on his back with a heavy gasp as the air was knocked out of his lungs. Instead of getting up and continuing his dash, he chose to stay sprawled on the ground uncaring of the moisture clinging to his back, the possibility of a cold never even reaching his mind. He just lay there panting facing the clearing sky with clouds of many shapes and shades of gray dancing around, moved by the wind, inhaling the fresh scent of rain, wet grass blinking as the rays of sun grazed the straws.

And all of a sudden he didn't care anymore, the struggle in his mind and heart coming to an abrupt end, his heart being the one coming out victorious.

He was in love. Kurosaki Ichigo, 15 years old, hair color; orange, eye color; brown, occupation; high school student and substitute shinigami, had fallen deeply in love (with a man). It was as simple as that. I didn't matter anymore that his love interest was a man, a much older one. The perverted, blonde shopkeeper by the name of Urahara Kisuke.

He fought a long battle with himself, before he was finally able to admit that yes, there were times when he couldn't tears his eyes off of the blonde, when the man's gestures and the way he moved, the way he fought had Ichigo painfully hard, when hearing his voice made his heart ache, when he couldn't help but hope, that the teasing meant more, much more.

Coming into terms with his feelings made him feel lightheaded, the uncomfortable weight finally gone from his heart. The only thing left for him to do was to actually tell the bastard. And surprisingly he didn't fear rejection. It was accepting his feelings that bothered him the most, making him feel confused and out of character.

"Are you alright, Kurosaki-kun?"

Ichigo turned his face in the direction the voice came from, its owner bearing a worried expression. It didn't surprise Ichigo much that Urahara was here. It wouldn't come as a surprise if it was the perverted shopkeeper who took care of all the stray Hollows running rampant around Karakura, sensing the teenager's distress and letting him come back to himself.

"Kurosaki-kun?" Urahara crouched by the teenager still sprawled on the ground poking him with Benihime, "Is something wrong?"

Kurosaki looked up at the blonde and smiled warmly which had Kisuke blink in what he presumed was confusion.

"I'm okay." The orange head finally answered, his smile never leaving its place on his lips. Smiling wasn't something he did often – or more like hardly ever –, but it felt good. Refreshing even.

It was odd how he didn't mind being in love with the pervert.

"Are you really?" Urahara stood up and held out a hand to help the teenager up, his eyes never leaving Ichigo's face.

"Yeah," he whispered never releasing Urahara's hand, "I am now."

Deeply in love.


	7. 7: Morning

**Title**: Morning

**Words**: 1,158

**Rating**: K+

**Warning**: teasing,

**Summary**: Getting up early in the morning was always difficult, but add a perverted blonde to all the well know factors and you can call it Mission Impossible. Unless you're a manipulative uke, of course.

**Beta**: FreakinMi/King/Mater/Lord/Frea-sama/Sensei

**A/N**: I had so much devious fun with this one. I could let loose the little devil residing in me and let him play and tease as much as he liked. Ah, the fic is pure me, I dare say ^^.

--

BEEP BEEP BEEP THWACK

The alarm clock died in the line of duty, smashed by a tanned fist, but still managed to fulfill its last task; waking Ichigo up. The teen would forever be grateful for its commitment… Or maybe he would forget about it within the next few minutes when he'd have to clean up the clock's metal guts scattered all over the tatami mats cursing and hopping on one leg from stepping on one of its pieces.

Ichigo opened his eyes slowly, blinking a few times to get rid of the remnants of sleep as he stretched much like a cat and tried to roll out of bed. That, however, wouldn't go as easy as he hopped for due to a lean arm thrown around his waist and a leg tangled with his own, both keeping him in place as the body snuggled close to him, then stirred and brought them even closer.

"Mm... Good mornin'..." Kisuke muttered against the back of his head, his voice hoarse from sleep.

"Morning." Ichigo answered trying to untangle himself from his lover's firm grip.

The blonde just strengthened his hold as he nuzzled the orange tresses and began kissing and nipping his way from Ichigo's nape towards his ear. The teenager kept on struggling, not even pausing when he got questioned.

"What are you doing?" Urahara's husky voice tickled his ear.

"Getting up."

"Why?" Kisuke mumbled with a mouthful of Ichigo's earlobe.

"It's Monday, I have school." He panted out. It was beginning to be difficult to actually mean what he just said.

"So?"

"Some of us have classes to attend to." He huffed slumping against Kisuke's chest ceasing to struggle for the moment.

"You don't have to. I could be your private tutor." Kisuke whispered sultrily into his ear before moving lower to abuse the skin of his neck.

Ichigo snorted.

"Pff, as if I'd ever agree to that."

"Why not? I think it's a splendid idea." Urahara purred pausing for a moment long enough to leave a mark on his Strawberry's long neck. "You wouldn't have to spend long, boring hours glued to a chair in a class full of half-asleep teenagers barely listening to the monotonous voice of the teacher. We'd be all alone, just you and a hot Sensei exclusively for you. We could go through your homework together and you wouldn't have to get up so early. In fact, you wouldn't have to leave the bed at all. I'd take good care of your education."

Ichigo couldn't help but laugh at that. He could imagine pretty well what sort of 'education' that would be. "My point exactly. Now, let me go."

"I don't want to. You're so nice and warm." The blonde planted a kiss on the mark he left and nuzzled his neck.

"I said 'let go'." The teenager's stubborn nature kicked in. And what he set his mind on he'd get. Always.

The struggle began anew.

"Do you really have to go?" Kisuke tried again not deterred his leg pushing in between the teenager's tights.

"You know damn well I have to, stop asking stupid questions and release me so I can take a shower and get dressed."

"But I like you naked."

"Sure you do. And I'd love to stay and play with you, but I'll be late if you don't let me get out of bed this instant." The orange headed teen replied, the tone of his voice not leaving any place for objection. "Kisuke."

"Fine."

--

When Ichigo came back from his shower already dressed (there was no way he'd change clothes in the same room as the perverted blonde, it would only lead to him not going to school at all) his lover was still sprawled in bed hugging the teenager's pillow close. The orange head couldn't help but smile at the sight. He went over to the bed and nudged the blonde with his hand. "Kisuke."

"Hm?" Came the sleepy reply.

"Won't you wish me a nice day and give me my 'good bye' kiss?" Yes, you got that right, Ichigo just asked for a kiss. He still marveled at it at times, but being with Kisuke for more than a year now made him bolder, more daring. And most of the time the shopkeeper couldn't complain. Unless of course it turned into teasing. Ichigo had that art down to perfection.

"You don't deserve one." The blonde mumbled into the pillow.

"No?" Ichigo smirked.

"No."

"If you say so." So Urahara though that pouting would work? Fat chance.

The eldest Kurosaki sibling stood up, grabbed his bag and didn't even get to make a step out of the room before lean arms caught him and brought him close to the naked body behind him.

"What do you want?" The teenager asked with a smirk well aware of what was it that his lover wanted.

"You forgot something."

"And what would that be?" Asked the teen while turning around to face the blonde dropping his bag to the floor and hooking his arms behind the older man's neck.

"A 'see you later' kiss." Kisuke answered in a suave voice before leaning in. He didn't get to taste Ichigo's lips, however, as a long finger stopped him in his track.

"I didn't forget. It's you who said I don't deserve one not even a minute ago so beat it, _Geta-boushi_, you lost you chance." Point for Ichigo. Two could play the game of denying.

"But if I don't give you one you'll get all moody and won't be able to focus during lessons and that might earn you detention." Urahara mumbled against the finger. "We don't want you to spend more time at school than necessary."

"Oh, so it's me who won't be able to stop thinking about it?"

"Yes, so move that finger so I can make sure you won't get distracted." The blonde said before licking the digit in question.

"You're right. I can't let myself become unable to focus because of something like that. I can't let myself daydream during classes, imagine your lips on mine in a fierce kiss, moving along mine in a sensual dance, your tongue exploring my mouth thoroughly, inch by inch as I moan into the kiss over and over and can't get enough of you." Ichigo withdrew his finger and leaned closer, his lips now a breath away from Kisuke's. "I can't let those images get in my way so from now on I think that I should start practicing the art of self-denial." And with that he moved away and out of Urahara's embrace.

"What?" The blonde asked bewildered.

"I really should thank you for pointing that out."

"No, Kurosaki-kun, I didn't mean it like that." Urahara tried to take him in his arms again, but the teen was quick to make his exit.

"See you later, Kisuke." Ichigo called barely able to suppress his laughter.

"Ichigo!"


	8. 8: Medicine

**Reposting, 'coz after the beta it's a whole 300 words longer.**

**Title**: Medicine

**Pairing**: Kiichigo;

**Words**: 2,918

**Genre**: Hurt/Comfort

**Rating**: K+?

**Beta**: freakinmi

**Dedication**: figaro_figaro, for no apparent reason, really. I call it the will of the fiction.

**Warnings**: angst, really long rant,

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters.

**Summary**: _Urahara was just about to fall asleep after a long night spent on his newest invention when he sensed a Hollow. He was about to get up to deal with it when his lover's reiatsu appeared and got back to sleep. When he saw his lover's eyes later on, he would forever regret his choice._

--

Urahara yawned and put down his pen. He stretched his arms above his head sighing in relief at the few audible pops as his joints got back in place. He rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly and looked at the clock standing on his desk. It was almost five in the morning. How time passed by quickly when you enjoyed yourself. Of course, only if one found inventing what normal people had christened 'bizarre machines' or dissolving clothes enjoyable.

He debated with himself for a moment whether he should just skip on sleep tonight… err… day and finish working on his newest project or actually crash into bed and make best out of the few hours left till he had to get up.

Brawls against brains; an internal battle he had fought many times over. This time it was his body that came out victorious and the blonde found himself under the covers before the next yawn subsided. Just as he was about to close his eyes a sudden burst of reiatsu interrupted him. Damn Hollows. Trust them to appear when you needed them the least.

Luck was on his side however, because before he even managed to grab Benihime, as always resting securely at the head of his futon, another burst of reiatsu signalized that his lover was already on his way to kick the Hollow's ass.

Judging from the reiatsu level the Hollow wasn't very strong and as predicted the fight was over soon enough, only the reiatsu-overflowing Shinigami remaining on the battlefield. Sometimes he thought he'd be able to sense Ichigo from the other side of the Earth, as strong and distinct as his flow was. It felt like…

Urahara furrowed his brows in concentration. Ichigo seemed disturbed, the flow of his power dispersed more than usual, but the blonde's tired mind shrugged it off as being sleep-deprived. He'd have to scold the orange head for not being in bed at this time of the night first thing next time he saw him and if the teenager would see fit to oppose, he'd just have to make sure to tire him out every night.

The shopkeeper smirked to himself. Now that sounded like a nice plan. He would set it in motion as soon as he would wake up.

The blonde yawned again and buried himself deeper in the sheets drifting off almost instantly.

--

He couldn't have been asleep for more than twenty minutes when his internal alarm went off. Someone was there; in his room. Watching him from the far corner with slightly increased breathing, carrying a smell of night air with him. Thanks to his Shinigami past he was able to keep his body and breath relaxed not giving away that he was awake. Old habits die hard. But almost just as soon as he sensed the intruder he sighed in relief identifying the reiatsu.

"Hello there, Kurosaki-kun."

The teenager remained quiet. Not that he expected something witty at this time of day, but a simple 'hey' would be much appreciated, much more than the unsettling silence. Urahara once more focused on his lover's reiatsu and finally turned around to face Ichigo, who was still in his uniform and who seemed really upset. However the room was too dark for the blonde to make out his lover's expression.

"Ichigo? What happe-"

Before he could get up to reach him, the orange head was all over him pinning him down with his weight and forcing him flat on the futon; hands fisting his yukata, opening it and revealing patches of well toned skin; lips attacking him, biting, nibbling, begging like a starved animal.

Any other given day Urahara wouldn't think twice about taking advantage of the situation, but right now something was really wrong with his Strawberry and playing along would mean avoiding the problem his lover was apparently facing and only result in hurting him more.

Ichigo taking initiative wasn't something all that rare after the time they spent together, with Urahara rubbing off on him and setting his inner pervert free. One that had been hiding extremely well, locked away by layers of shy blushing and automatic 'noes'… But this wasn't it. It was the way the young Shinigami kissed him – forcefully, tasting of salt, bordering on pain. The way his fingers clutched the material of the shopkeeper's yukata, the way his hands slid across the blonde's chest hard, leaving red traces in their wake as if they wanted to melt with him and all in all disappear.

It felt so painfully wrong.

Kisuke caught the roaming hands in his own stopping them just before they wandered too far south and leaned away from the needy lips.

"Ichigo." He said in a soft, warm voice trying to get the young substitute's attention.

He caught the teenager's gaze and felt something in him break. He released his hold on the young man's hands to be able to take him in his arms and hug tightly. Urahara never wanted to see Ichigo look like that. To see those bronze orbs all red and glistening with tears the orange head seemed to be trying to hold back.

His eyes were somewhat dulled and yet at the same time they were bright with all the emotions that fought to be vocalized, all the horrible things that must've been playing on repeat in the young man's memory. Their color, always so full life, always so stubborn and strong had been taken away. As if someone ripped something precious to them apart.

"Please…" Ichigo sobbed in the crook of his neck. "Please, Kisuke."

Urahara would fight everyone and everything in each of the worlds if only that would mean he'd be able to bring life back to those eyes.

"What is it, Ichigo?" The blonde asked in what he hoped was a calm voice as he cradled the orange head in his arms.

"Kisuke, I…" The substitute Shinigami leaned back to look at the shopkeeper, his eyes pleading, fading, dying.

Urahara didn't say a thing waiting for his young lover to utter whatever it was that he wanted to say.

"I want you to… I want you to make love to me, Kisuke."

Ichigo didn't even blush when he said that – a sign that something was really wrong.

The blonde cradled his lover's face in his hands, wiping the somewhat dried tears from his cheeks with his thumbs.

"Ichigo," He said in a firm voice to get the young man to listen and answer him, "Tell me what happened."

The orange head just stared at him with those agonized eyes. He looked as if he was about to break in Kisuke's arms. As if the anguish he felt would make him explode with all the feelings bottling inside. Urahara knew that, despite all what the young man did till now, all the battles he fought, all the enemies he defeated, Ichigo was fragile like glass. A glass striated so much that there was barely any unscarred place left, that it could shatter with the softest of touch.

That the teenager was about to fall apart.

"Ichigo." He whispered in a voice so pained that it must've caused the Shinigami substitute to break open.

"Fuck me, please fuck me," The orange head almost cried, "I don't want to think anymore. Make me forget. Please, Kisuke, make me forget it all. _Fuck me, please_."

Now this was something he never expected to hear from him. And even less that the words would break his heart.

"Stop, Ichigo. Stop." Urahara got up having them both sit on the futon. He still held Ichigo's face in his hands and could not only see but also clearly feel his lover shaking. "What happened? Tell me and I'll do everything I can to help you, to make you feel better. I'll kick whatever ass there is to kick, I'll use all my nasty inventions on the one who hurt you. So just tell me."

Having his lover so close enabled Kisuke to notice more, notice how he shook with tremors of forcefully held back tears, how cold his skin was probably from staying out too long in the cold night breeze. He smelled like fresh air, like his Strawberry, but he also smelled more – of tears and anguish, of blood and regret.

Ichigo grabbed his hands and lifted them from his face slowly before he hung his head.

"I…" he started in a broken voice. "I didn't make it in time. It… The Hollow… it ate her just before my eyes and I couldn't do a thing but stare as it swallowed her. I didn't save her."

Damn. So the Hollow he felt before he went to bed, the one he left Ichigo to deal with…

"If only I felt it earlier. If I listened to Ishida and worked on sensing reiatsu or on my shunpo. If I ran faster I might have been able… I could have saved her. I-"

The teenager clung to him hiding his face in his yukata. His voice was weak, the shopkeeper could barely hear him, and yet he knew that if the shinigami substitute only could he would scream out all his suffering, he'd howl into the new dawn until his voice would become horse and his throat would be raw and painful. But he held back – his restrained voice was so unlike him. So painfully unlike him.

"Ichigo." He combed the orange spikes with his fingers. He was the one at fault. The one that should be blaming himself right now. Not Ichigo. Never Ichigo.

"I could have saved her. If only I tried harder. If only… I know I could." The young man continued as if he didn't hear Kisuke calling for him.

"Ichigo."

He called again, but his lover seemed to be re-living the terror he faced not so long ago. He tried to pry him away from his yukata to see his face. His eyes. He needed to see his eyes.

"I can still hear her scream."

"Look at me." He was desperate to see Ichigo's eyes. To catch him before he fell to deep, before he would be too far gone.

"I-I…" The orange head's voice wavered as Urahara was finally able to move Ichigo back a little.

"Ichigo, listen to me." He tried again catching the man's chin and lifting his face up.

"I didn't-" Ichigo wasn't crying, but his eyes were wide open as if he held back tears. As if he fought them with all his might now that he was with Kisuke.

"Shush. I know, Ichigo, I know."

"She screamed so loudly… I thought she was unconscious but she screamed when the Hollow's fangs ripped of her limbs one by one and-"

"Enough, Ichigo." Urahara couldn't take it anymore. He snapped. "Stop. Shut up and listen to me." He pushed Ichigo back a little more and held his face in place so the teenager wouldn't be able to look away.

"You couldn't have saved her." He said firmly, his gaze set on his lover's face. "You can't save everyone. That's simply impossible. That's how the world is. People will die, souls will be devoured, lives will be lost and maybe it will be your fault maybe not."

The Zangetsu possessor looked as if he wanted to interrupt, his mouth opening and lips moving slightly, but the force of the blonde's stare must have been enough to shut him up.

"There are things you are unable to do, that are out of your reach and you can't make yourself regret not doing things you could never do. You can't be in two places at the same time. You won't always be the strongest one. There will be a Shinigami, an Espada, someone that will overpower you, with who you'll lose and who might threaten your family and friends."

Kisuke knew that these were not the words Ichigo wanted to hear, that no words would make him feel better. Neither blaming him not telling him that it wasn't his fault. It didn't even matter if the latter one was true. So the blonde offered what he could, the words of someone who lived a lot longer, who had more experience, who faced more deaths and had to deal with more regrets.

"There will be times when you'll think that you could have moved faster, hit harder, do things differently, but it will already be too late. You have to stop thinking that the whole world is depending on you, that since you have some sorts of powers you are obliged to save everyone. _The world is not your responsibility_."

He emphasized the last words hoping his words got through.

"You have to understand that, Ichigo. And you have to stop trying to run from your fears, thoughts of being defeated, from failures. They are bound to happen, you will make mistakes. We all do."

The shopkeeper sighed heavily, but didn't turn away as he revealed his faults.

"Just like today. I felt the Hollow. I probably could have killed it before you got there and saved the girl's soul."

He held Ichigo's gaze.

"But I was tired and simply let you fight with it. I can't help thinking that if I went to deal with it you wouldn't be suffering so much right now, but there's nothing I can do about it anymore. I can't change my choice, can't change what you saw. It is not in my power to change the past so I have to live with my decisions even though they might have been the wrong ones."

He traced the orange head's jaw line with the pads of his thumbs.

"But I might have been unable to save her even if I rushed there just as you were unable to. The truth, no matter how harsh, is that her soul was devoured and we can't do a thing about it. You have to face the facts, Ichigo, because running won't change a thing and you'll only make yourself feel worse. What you can do is fight and get stronger."

Ichigo's eyes weren't wide open anymore and a few tears slipped past the blonde's fingers, but it looked that he calmed down a bit and was listening to his lover's words. Urahara smiled at him softly, though the smile itself was a bit sad.

"I'm not telling you that you shouldn't be feeling guilty, because you're not that kind of man to let a death go by unnoticed. What I'm trying to say is that you shouldn't be blaming yourself that much." _I'm the one to blame_, was what he chose not to say, since it wouldn't change a thing and would only make the Shinigami substitute feel worse.

"You can't use sex as means to escape problems and tragedies because, as mind blowing as it is, it won't solve anything and the images haunting you won't go away. They'll be back in the morning or just as soon as the act is over and you've regained coherence, waiting to hit you with double force making the guilt you feel even worse. Because that's what you're going to feel, Ichigo, guilt weighting down on you, bringing you down. And making love won't be as pleasurable as it was, because somewhere along the way you'll start thinking of it as your escape route, it will be associated with pain and bad memories. You will blame yourself for using me as your medicine, for wanting to forget about all those you failed to protect."

He wished he didn't have to tell the young man all this, that he could have spared him the painful memory. That he could have done something to avoid it.

"Sex is about love, about lust. It's an act of emotions, feelings far from the ones you're feeling right now. Because love doesn't come from despair, lust isn't born from fear, happiness not from misery and pain."

He hugged the teenager close now and felt relief when he wasn't pushed away. He cradled him in his arms and wished for the world not to be this cruel again.

"I'm always here for you, Ichigo, and I'll do anything you ask me to, but not if it's something that would end up in hurting you. I'll hear you out, spar with you in the basement, try to comfort you or just sit with you without uttering a word when you don't feel like sharing with me."

He looked down and Ichigo and Ichigo looked back at him. Urahara was happy to notice that his lover's eyes weren't dull anymore and even though pain still resided in them there was also the trace of the stubborn spark that he loved so much.

"I'm sorry." The young man said.

"I care for you, Ichigo. No matter what. No matter where." Answered the blonde.

And with that the orange head gave in and wound his arms around Urahara tightly as he let his emotions free and let them stream down his face and into the material of the shopkeeper's yukata until it was all drenched. But Kisuke didn't mind a bit and held him through the last of his tremors, until the teenager fell asleep.

He lay with Ichigo still cradled in his arms and as he watched him sleep he vowed on the dawn of every new morning that was ahead to protect Ichigo with all his might so he wouldn't have to see his eyes dead again.


	9. 9: Dawn

**Title**: Dawn

**Pairing**: Kiichigo

**POV**: Urahara's

**Rating**: K+

**Genre**: Romance/General

**Words**: 865

**Warning**: I fear OOCness; other than that BL;

**Dedication**: figaro_figaro again. Happy Birthday Figaro! I wish ya all the happiness and love in the world and a harem full of Bleach bishies for your every command!

Also dedicated to** ILoveKuramaTooMuch** since it was thanks to her review that I even thought of writing this.

**Beta**: nope, since I was in a hurry.

**A/N**: Companion fic to 'Dew', a bit rushed so I'd make it in time for figaro's bday. Ah, it seems inspiration hits me at late hours – started writing around 2 a.m.; but I'm not complaining even if my fingers were freezing, because my gloves were drying on the radiator (the weather in Poland is friggin' awful I tell ya!), it just shows how I love writing more than my fingers XD.

--

It didn't really matter when it started. It might have been when the boy entered his shop with the desire to regain his powers in order to save Rukia. It might have been earlier - when he and Tessai patched his wounds after his encounter with Byakuya. It might have been later, during one of the orange head's frequent visits to train, to plan a battle, to chat.

Or it might have simply always been there inside him. The scorching feeling bursting his chest. Making him painfully aware of the young Shinigami Substitute's presence. Causing him to yearn for the boy, to look for a chance to brush against him and violate his personal space.

It made him follow the boy's every move from under the rim of his hat with his grey eyes hidden in its shade. To dream of him, of that young body beneath him twisting in pleasure; of that beautiful face all read and sweaty and teary and begging for more; of those peachy lips parted, indulged in a kiss, gasping for air, releasing moan after sweet moan or wrapped around him and devouring him whole. Of those brown eyes set on him and only him and holding his gaze as he drowned in them.

Coming to terms with it was easy. He lived far too long to be afraid of acknowledging his own feelings. It was the guilt that bothered him and sometimes made facing Ichigo difficult.

Being friends with Isshin, the fact that he trained the boy and could call him his student, the huge age gap, or simply that Ichigo was still very much alive.

He was so beautiful, so young and so painfully innocent and naïve in his stubborn resolve. Ichigo was unmarred by greed, hate, wrath or sin. Even though his body wore reminders of countless battles, scars no teenager should have, even though he shed so much blood the orange head never gave up and moved forward no matter the obstacles.

And he? He was a cunning genius with a grave sin weighting on his soul. How could he even dare dream of the boy?

But even though he knew all that he couldn't quite control himself. He teased the Strawberry whenever he could relishing in that delicious blush that adorned Ichigo's cheeks and made him all the more attractive and difficult to resist. He always managed to keep his mask on and never let any unnecessary word slip from his lips. He was after all a master at keeping secrets and avoiding straight answers.

The moment Ichigo started falling for him his façade began to slip.

He watched the boy for a long time already so it was easy to notice the change in him.

It was in the way he always seemed to search for him with his gaze and looked away every time Urahara caught him staring. It was in the way he watched his every move and blushed when they were too close.

It was in the way he moved, in the alluring sway of his hips reserved for the blonde only. It was in the way he acted – all self-conscious and always on the edge.

It was in the way he scowled less around him and in his still rare, but soft smiles. It was in the way his eyes dulled whenever he was lost in thought, in his forlorn expression. In his distress.

When Ichigo started jogging night after night till the sunrise, till he had to go to school killing the Hollows in his place was something Kisuke didn't think much about. He didn't try to rationalize it, to admit that he tried to give the orange head some space so he could come into terms with himself, to acknowledge his feelings for the blonde. He just followed him making sure that nothing bad happened to him and desperately tried not to hope.

"Are you alright, Kurosaki-kun?"

But as he looked at Ichigo sprawled there on the ground, after he slipped on the wet grass, the dew blinking in the first rays of the morning sun as the sky cleared and found the boy's eyes bright with light he couldn't really help but expect that the orange head chose to care for him.

"Kurosaki-kun?" He crouched next to him to see his expression clearly, to make sure. "Is something wrong?"

The moment Ichigo smiled all doubts, everything that made him feel guilty about the feelings and desires he harbored for the teenager disappeared and he couldn't recall why he had second thoughts in the first place.

"I'm okay."

It was surprising how a simple smile could change his features so much, how it made him look so sublime, so ethereal and even more beautiful than he already was. He took Kisuke's breath away.

"Are you really?"

The feeling of their skin touching, the way Ichigo held his hand as he offered to help him get up.

"Yeah. I am now."

The way Ichigo's answer resonated in his heart Urahara knew that he couldn't go on without that boy and that there was nothing that could make him run away from his feelings anymore.

Not even Isshin's medical tools.


	10. 10: Dare

**Title**: Dare ('coz King suggested "pick a random song in your archive" and it just happened to be Gorillaz)

**Pairing**: Kiichigo

**Rating**: R

**Genre**: Romance/Humor

**Words**: ~1,700

**Warnings**: naughty shopkeeper, pervy ideas;

**AN**: The moment the idea was born I lol'ed so hard I just had to write it down and share it. And then it grew. And it became a fic. I love it! XD

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Bleach or any of the characters.

**Beta: **FreakinMi (My one and only beloved King! 3)

--

Kisuke moved fast and with ease as he hopped from one rooftop to another, not really trying to be sneaky since only a few could follow his movement; one of them being his young lover who he was planning on visiting tonight.

Well, whether he'd manage to get inside the teenager's room was still a question.

When Urahara finally stopped and hunched on his toes on the orange head's windowsill he wasn't really surprised that the window was closed. Most of the time it was left open for him to silently sneak in the room without alarming any of the other occupants of the house, tonight was not the case however.

For the past few days the owner of the room locked his window every night preventing the blonde from indulging in his favorite pastime. It was ages since the last time he touched Ichigo let alone kissed him. Ah, he hated being denied his daily fix so much.

Kisuke could of course barge in or simply use one of his genius inventions to help him get inside. Unfortunately for him both would result with his young lover throwing a fit with lots of cursing and yelling included which might wake up one, medical-tool armored, protective father. And that was an encounter the blonde would like to avoid. At all cost.

Through the class he could see that Ichigo was still awake. The shinigami substitute was sitting by his desk most probably working on homework. The only source of light in the room was the little desk lamp, but even though it gave enough light for the orange head to work in peace it wasn't enough for Kisuke. He could make out his lover's silhouette, but not the expression he wore. He really wanted to know what mood the orange head was in – it would make choosing a strategy easier.

Not that it would help much – Ichigo went from one mood to another in a matter of three seconds.

Urahara let out a sigh. His previous tries to apologize to the Strawberry fell on deaf ears. He rarely got further than saying 'hi' before the window closed on his face. He got punched even and pushed down from the windowsill.

A few scratches would never deter the blonde though.

Kisuke knocked lightly on the glass.

Ichigo must have known it was him – the teenager didn't even look up from his book. Well, who else could it be at this hour? Any other shinigami would simply go through the glass uncaring if the window was closed or not. Or made a hole in the roof – either worked just fine.

The blonde tried again. And again.

The young shinigami put away his book and leaned back in his chair rubbing his temples most probably debating with himself whether to kick the shopkeeper out or simply ignore him. But they both knew that Urahara wasn't that easy to fend off and that he would most probably keep the knocking going all night.

Three more tries.

By the seventh time Ichigo got up with a sigh and walked to the window, his arms crossed on his chest and a scowl on his face. Kisuke smiled back. Yup, the boy was so happy to see him.

Before Urahara had the chance to knock for the eighth time the orange head opened the window and just stood there looking at the blonde and his outstretched hand stopped halfway.

Now that was a surprise. No curses, no fists kissing his jaw, no pain in his lower back caused by a force-landing on the hard ground.

He pulled his hand back.

"Hello, Kurosaki-kun. A beautiful night, isn't it?" Urahara smiled, but Ichigo didn't look amused. The shinigami substitute kept glaring at the shopkeeper, an eyebrow arched as if asking why the hell he was bothering him again. Not that he expected a warm welcome.

"Will you let me in? It might be spring, but it's still cold at night." Kisuke tried. It looked like he might have a chance to actually get to the apology part tonight. "Besides, someone might see me perched here and call the police and that would most probably cause a ruckus. And alarm your father. We don't want that, right?"

"_You_ don't want that. I can always tell him that you came to molest me. I'm sure he'd hunt your ass for that." The eldest Kurosaki sibling bit back. Ah, he was still pretty much annoyed. If not worse.

"Point taken." Kisuke smiled again. "So, may I come in?" He said in his best pleading voice.

Ichigo stared at him for a moment long enough to make the blonde calculate the chances of getting out of this encounter unscratched. His chances were pretty low.

The orange head moved back making room for Urahara.

Maybe he'd skip the apologizing and simply go to devouring his Strawberry at once? Judging from Ichigo's unpredictable mood changes that might be both a very bad and a very good decision. Worst case scenario he'd end up at Isshin's mercy.

Not a nice mental image.

"So?" The Berry was now sitting in his chair facing Kisuke, his arms still crossed at his chest making him a little unapproachable – not that that would ever discourage the blonde. "What do you want?"

"You haven't spoken to me for three days now." A whole eternity if you asked him.

"You mean I haven't let you fuck me for three days."

"That too," He grinned at finally managing to coax the young shinigami to talk with him more or less normally, "But it's no fun without your voice." He tried joking, but he was treading on uncertain ground and judging from the teen's deepening scowl he was close to falling on his ass.

Well, not talking he could go with, but the worst part was being ignored. He hated being treated like thin air more than anything in any of the worlds. And Ichigo knew that.

The boy in question turned his back to him and Urahara's smile faltered a bit.

"Do I really deserve such severe punishment?"

The orange head didn't answer and simply restarted working on whatever it was that the blonde's visit interrupted.

"Iiichigooo." The shopkeeper whined right next to his lover's ear.

Kurosaki finally snapped.

He stood up abruptly – the force of the movement sending the chair on the ground – and turned towards Kisuke jabbing him in the chest with his finger as he half-whispered half-yelled at him.

"You call that severe?! After what you did you should be thankful I haven't kicked your balls back into your sternum, you damn pervert!" The teen stopped for a moment probably waiting for the threat to sink in, his eyes never leaving the blonde, glaring daggers. "_'What'_? _'What did I do'_?! How the fuck can you even ask?! You wanted to _fuck me._ With a friggin'. BANANA!"

"I didn't even manage to push the tip in before you noticed." Kisuke complained which wasn't a very wise thing to do. A fist came flying his way, but he managed to catch it. Ichigo's eyes burned, but not in that good way.

"Okay, okay. Joking. No need to hit me." He pushed the fist away, though didn't release it from his hold.

"We really need to work on your temper."

Glare.

"I'm sure you wouldn't have complained if only you kept trashing your head on that pillow instead of looking down between your legs." The blonde caught Ichigo's other hand and advanced a little closer. Wary of the young man's legs and how they could come in contact with very vulnerable places he pinned him to the nearby wall.

Ichigo tried to free himself, but once Kisuke got a hold of him he had no chance of running away.

"After all, what you don't know won't hurt you." He changed the note of his voice to a more suave one. One that always worked wonders on the orange head.

"I'd say it would bring you pleasure even," He purred into his ear, "You didn't mind other things going there." Urahara licked the young man's ear.

"Fuckin' stop." The orange head managed to free one of his hands to hit the blonde's shoulder, "I was okay with vibrators 'cause they are meant to be used like that. But _why the hell_ a banana?"

"Because I was out of batteries for the vibrator." The shopkeeper answered matter-of-factly.

"You fuckin-"

Before the Strawberry had the chance to hit him again Urahara grabbed his wrist and kissed him using the teenager's open mouth to his advantage succesfully shutting him up. For the moment.

Ah, he tasted so good after such a long time. The dark, intoxicating taste that was purely Ichigo. Urahara couldn't help a happy sigh.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Should have used something else." He kissed the breathless orange head again. "So forgive me? I won't do it ever again."

Ichigo gazed at him his face flushed, cheeks tinged pink and looking so delicious Kisuke couldn't help but lick them. Which scored him points as the boy flashed a small smile.

Urahara released his hands and put his own on the young shinigami's waist holding him close. The orange head wound his arms around the blonde's neck. It looked like the shopkeeper wasn't the only one missing his fix.

"No more sticking fruits inside me?" Kurosaki asked in a demanding tone.

"Cross my heart." Kisuke promised and moved them towards the bed shedding their clothes.

"Good."

He laid the teen on the sheets and hovered above him intent on devouring him whole.

"How about cucumbers?"

"Urahara!"

Kisuke only laughed ignoring the injury Ichigo's punch made and continued making up for the time they lost.


	11. 11: In sickness and in health

**Title**: In sickness and in health

**Pairing**:Kisuke/Ichigo

**Genre**: Romance/Humor

**Rating**: PG-13

**Warnings**: pervert ahead, also boylove;

**Words**: 1,724

**Dedication**: To figaro_figaro as a late birthday present with lots of love.

**Summary**: Being sick sucked. Especially if it meant that your perverted lover could have his way with you and you didn't have enough energy to put a fight.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Bleach or any of the characters.

**AN**: I'm sorry it took so long for me to get back to this pairing. After a bit more than a year I've finally got around to working on this piece (though the notes I made back then proved to be useless ^^;;). I hope I'll be able to spoil you with more Kiichi goodness soon!~

Ichigo growled and kicked the covers off of himself angrily bunching them up at the foot of the bed and scowled even deeper. The room was all too warm, the air stuffy and stagnant since the window has been left closed for far too long.

He felt altogether uncomfortable with his T-shirt clinging to his sweaty skin. He couldn't feel it himself, with the way his breathing was limited by his cold, but he'd bet his shinigami badge that he smelled and was in a desperate need of a shower.

The way thing's were though, he felt too weak to stand up straight let alone bathe and since he used the lasts of his strength on kicking the idea of a shared bath out of his father's head he had to settle for stinking until he felt better again. There was just no way he'd let his sisters clean him.

Of course there was someone else who'd be more than happy to get his hands oh his body, but Ichigo refused to give me that chance. Not when he felt this vulnerable.

To his utmost displeasure he was stuck in bed for more than two days now. Quite obviously, the first day of being confined to bed felt good. He could finally catch up on the hours of sleep he lost due to school and his Substitute Shinigami duties that his crazy life consisted of.

But sleeping got boring after half a day. So did watching TV and reading. Even staring at the white ceiling for nothing else to do got on his nerves now.

For a moment he regretted that he threw Kon out through the window on the first day of his sickness demanding peace and quiet. The lion plushie must have been going around town mopping and cursing Ichigo for mistreating him.

Something itched in the back of his throat and Ichigo doubled up into a sitting position coughing heavily into his hand until the fit subsided. Tiredly he slumped back on the pillow and wiped the water that was forced out by the strength of his fit with his sleeve.

On a second thought, he didn't feel like having any visitors right now. He rolled to his side, back facing the room, and closed his eyes with a sigh. Maybe another nap would help him get back on his feet sooner.

Clank, clank, clank.

The noise rose Ichigo up from his slumber. He blinked a couple of times momentary disoriented only locating the source of the sound after another "clank".

Perched on the windowsill and knocking on the windowpane with his cane was Urahara, the perverted shopkeeper that also went by as his lover. The blonde, aside from his trademark striped hat, wore a smile that he'd most probably call charming. Ichigo called it sly suspecting that Kisuke found a new way to annoy him.

Geta-boushi waved hello to the teenager and gestured asking the boy to open the window. Before making a decision whether he wanted the crazy scientist's company or not, Ichigo glanced over his shoulder at the alarm clock standing on his desk. The clock read 1 p.m. meaning that neither his sisters, nor his karate-fiend father were in hearing range in case Ichigo needed help in getting Ichigo out of harms way. Harm being Urahara of course.

On the other hand though, maybe today his lover would hold back in his perverted ways and actually act like a caring lover should. But wasn't that asking for too much?

Ichigo looked back at the mad hatter and sighed. Fine.

"It's open."

In an afterthought, he should have known better.

Kisuke slid the window open and let himself in landing gracefully on the floor.

"Good afternoon, Ichigo. How are you feeling?" The shopkeeper said in a singsong voice as he propped Benihime against the wall.

Ichigo eyed him warily expecting him to pounce any minute. "What do you want?"

"I heard from Yuzu-chan that you're sick," Urahara answered the query not the slightest thrown off by the boy's rude welcome. "So I came to see how you're doing. I was certain that you'd be quite bored by now and might use some entertainment."

"Said entertainment being you?" The orange head watched his lover push away the bunched covers and sit at the foot of the bed.

"Why of course. You must know that I'm familiar with a lot of ways to relieve boredom."

The teenager snorted.

"I could bet that more than half of them involve sex."

"Actually only 49% of them." Kisuke winked at him.

Ichigo barely suppressed a smile from forming on his lips. Bastard shouldn't know that his corrupt ways were rubbing off on him. Not now when he could easily use the knowledge against him at least.

"That's a surprise. I'd think that since your pants do most of the thinking you'd have more perverted ways in your store." He couldn't help but tease.

"Ichigo, you wound me. You should know better than that." Urahara said in a hurt tone of voice, that was 100% fake.

"It's because I know you that I claim that." He threw knowing pretty well that the blonde actually prided himself in his knowledge about sex and anything related to it. More than once he fell victim to the scientist trying the knowledge out on him. "Anyways, you saw me and I'm fine. You can go now."

"Aw, don't be like that. After all I'm serving entertainment."

"Are you hiding from Yoruichi-san again?"

After the Winter War ended and the cat woman was granted pardon (Shinji and the gang as well, together with Kisuke and his 'employees' – not all of them took the offer though) she resumed her position as the captain of the 2nd squad. The stubborn and stuck-up woman, Soi Fon, quite obviously remained in the squad as her lieutenant. Ever since then Yoruichi made frequent visits to the Shoten to share stories with her old friend of just how cute her little hornet was. And how flexible.

Little to say, even Urahara got tired of the tirades.

"What can I say, there are things I don't want to know about my long-time friends."

"That's a first." Ichigo laughed. It was a bad thing to do though. His laugh soon enough turned to coughing and he curled up on his side exhaling abruptly. Kisuke was next to him in a flash, rubbing his back soothingly and offering passing him a glass of water that had been left on the table just in case when the fit subsided.

Ichigo lifted himself on one arm and took the glass gratefully taking a few sips to pacify his abused throat even if just a bit.

"Better?" Questioned the blonde after he put the drink back on the desk, his other hand still rubbing the boy's back.

"Yeah, thanks." He answered hoarsely and flopped down on the bed and to his back making the shopkeeper retreat his hand.

Urahara didn't back away completely though. Instead, he placed his hand at Ichigo's side hovering above him.

"Whatever your dirty mind is thinking of tell it to stop." The substitute shinigami warned.

"But I haven't touched you in so long. You can't really expect me to let you off the hook without even a kiss."

Yeah, he should have known the blonde would use the occasion.

"It's been only three days. You can live through three more without one."

The look on Urahara's face when he said that was comical. His eyes open up wide, lips parting and closing much like a fish trying to catch air. It spelled disbelief and scandal all over. He wanted to laugh at him again, but his throat protested loudly.

"You don't mean that!"

"I'm sick, moron. You'll catch it from me if you dare molest me." He tried to reason with the pervert. As if that would ever work.

"One kiss won't make me sick." The man protested and promptly leaned in.

Ichigo's arms instantly shot up and pushed at his lover's shoulders to keep him at distance. "Get away, idiot." He tried, but his body was too weak to prevent the blonde from getting closer.

"If I catch your cold you'll get to take care of me.~" Kisuke grinned before silencing any further words of protest from spilling out of Ichigo's mouth.

The kiss was slow at first, the blonde moving his mouth leisurely over the teenager's drinking in the muffled sounds that the boy produced in his weak attempts to get the older man to stop.

Pretty soon the heat escalated and the press of lips grew insistent leaving Ichigo with nothing else left to do but kiss back.

When Urahara nipped and sucked on his lower lip the orange head couldn't quite remember why he opposed to the kiss in the first place.

From there it was easy for the shopkeeper to pry his mouth open and explore his mouth with that wickedly skilled tongue of his. Ichigo had to admit that he too missed the taste of his lover, that strangely sweet flavor that was too intoxicating for his good.

All too soon Kisuke broke the kiss and moved his mouth south as the boy gasped for air. He gave the slender neck a long lick that caused shivers to run down Ichigo's spine. The blonde ceased his naughty ministrations for a moment and nuzzled the column of the orange head's throat with his nose inhaling deeply… only to lean back a second later.

"I'm sorry to say this, Ichigo, but when was the last time you took a shower? You don't smell… well, appetizing."

To that Ichigo had to laugh even if only slightly. He smiled in triumph at his lover, though only partly happy that there would be no follow-through.

"Forgive me, you perverted shopkeeper, but I didn't really have enough strength to take a bath by myself." He said. Only after Urahara grinned did he realize that maybe he shouldn't have said that. "Don't you even dare, bastard."

But it was too late. Kisuke had him in his arms and was carrying him in the direction of the bathroom barely a minute later undeterred by Ichigo's weak flailing.

Give the bastard a finger and he'll take the whole hand. Give him a kiss and he'll devour you whole.


End file.
